


at least i got you in my head

by punkmermaids



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 18:17:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10496784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkmermaids/pseuds/punkmermaids
Summary: Every time she kisses Rachel, Chloe's worried it'll be the last time. Eventually, she's right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh sorry

They’re seventeen and faded as all hell the first time Rachel kisses her. Chloe’s mom is out of town, so they steal a bottle of tequila and get thrashed in her room, the music so loud it shakes the floor. It’s just the two of them, like it always is. Chloe likes it that way—sharing Rachel with anyone else always feels wrong.

They're both already in their pjs and Chloe has to tear her eyes away from Rachel’s long, gorgeous legs. Those tiny shorts might be the death of her. 

Rachel pulls her up onto the bed when the song changes and grins, eyes wild. She puts her hands on Chloe’s hips and sways with her as they jump around to the music. Rachel is singing along to the song, but Chloe can’t focus on the lyrics when Rachel is right there, glowing with promises in her smile.

It makes Chloe’s chest ache.

The air is heavy with smoke and incense, casting a haze over them. The smell of it mixes with Rachel’s lavender perfume and it’s intoxicating, swirling around Chloe’s skull until she’s light-headed and laughing.

She can’t stop looking at Rachel’s lips, watching them form the lyrics as she sings. Strands of golden hair are stuck to her forehead and, before she can stop herself, Chloe is reaching to brush them away. Rachel catches her hand before she can pull it back and places Chloe’s open palm on her cheek. Chloe wonders when they stopped dancing.

Beneath her feet, Chloe can feel the bed vibrating with the beat, but she can't focus on anything but the warmth of Rachel’s skin. They're standing so close together that she can feel Rachel's breath on her cheek.

Chloe is paralyzed by the urge to kiss her. Rachel is less so, apparently, because she threads her fingers into Chloe’s mousy hair and presses their mouths together, soft and chaste. Her lip gloss is sticky against Chloe’s chapped lips and it tastes like artificial strawberries, sickly sweet. Chloe doesn’t mind.

It's over too fast. Rachel pulls back and giggles, tucking a piece of Chloe’s hair behind her ear. Then she’s back to dancing, like nothing happened.

Chloe feels like her chest is going to burst.

 

“I can't tonight,” Rachel tells her, leaning closer to the mirror as she swipes crimson onto her lips. “I’ve got plans.”

“Plans?” Chloe asks, the word bitter on her tongue. Rachel _always_ had plans. “You mean, with those Vortex Club assholes? Again?”

Rachel shoots her a look in the mirror. “They're fun, Chlo. Maybe if you gave them a chance–”

Chloe snorts. “Don't count on it.” She knows she’s being childish, but she can't help it. “I’ve barely seen you all week and now you're just gonna blow me off for those jerks?”

“I have other friends,” Rachel says shortly. Even though she doesn't say it and probably wouldn't have even thought it, the _unlike you_ rattles around Chloe’s head. It makes Chloe feel just as pathetic as it always does.

“Those guys? They aren't your friends, Rachel. Do they even know you?” _Why can't I just be good enough?_

“Do you?” Rachel snaps back, but she softens when she sees Chloe’s face fall in the mirror. Finally, she turns to take Chloe’s hand in hers, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean that. I just…” Her eyes are drawn to the alarm clock on her dresser. “Look, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll come over after, okay? Promise.”

Her smile almost makes Chloe believe her. “Okay,” Chloe says weakly. “Have fun, I guess.”

She spends the next hour nursing a bottle of stolen whiskey and scratching at the raised scars on her thighs until they're red and swollen.

It's two forty am when Rachel climbs back in through her window, still reeking of booze and weed. She kicks off her shoes and crawls into bed with Chloe, who lets Rachel wrap her arms around her and tries to calm her hammering heart.

Chloe ignores the lipstick on Rachel’s neck and her stomach churns at a whiff of a perfume that definitely isn't either of their's, but she just turns her head and squeezes her burning eyes shut. When Rachel absently presses her lips to Chloe’s cheek, Chloe wishes she could ignore the fluttering in her traitorous chest.

She wonders if she’ll ever be enough for anyone.

 

Predictably, Rachel does manage to drag Chloe along to one party, if only because Chloe can't say no to her. They get ready at Rachel’s house—well, Rachel gets ready. All Chloe does is pull on a new shirt and smudge some dark eyeliner across her lids. Rachel, on the other hand, takes half an hour to pick an outfit. It's at least partly because she insists on trying everything on for Chloe and striking a few poses.

They roll into the party an hour and a half late, Rachel in a short skirt and four inch heels and Chloe in her torn jeans and clunky boots. They make quite the pair, Chloe decides.

Rachel struts into the VIP section like she owns it and basks briefly in the attention her fashionably late entrance brings before she pulls Chloe over to a couch. Across from them, Chloe recognizes a few people—most notably, Victoria Chase who looks at her like shit on her shoe. Chloe sighs heavily and sinks back into her seat while Rachel exchanges tense pleasantries with Victoria.

The small talk is almost unbearable until someone passes a bong and Chloe sits up, relieved. If she has to talk to these assholes, she wants to be high while she does it. She hits it three times, so hard that her eyes water from the effort it takes to not cough. The smile twisting Rachel’s lips tells Chloe that she saw right through it, but is too nice to tease her in front of everyone.

The Vortex Club might be boring as hell, but they do have good fucking weed. One of the only perks to hanging out with rich kids, Chloe supposes.

Then, someone pulls out a bottle of top shelf tequila and Rachel is on her feet in a second, grabbing at it excitedly. She pauses to pour some into her mouth, tongue darting out to lick the taste off her lips, before she starts pouring shots. Chloe throws them back until she’s crossed enough that even the assholes around her can’t bring her down.

“Yo, Hayden, pass the bong,” Rachel says. The bowl is only half-burnt and she just finishes it off in one rip, a talent Chloe was always fascinated by and only a little jealous of. She holds it in for a moment before she turns and leans in to press her lips to Chloe’s. Chloe inhales the smoke when she exhales it, feeling higher just off the taste of Rachel’s lips.

Rachel pulls away and grins wickedly before she throws back another shot. “Bow down, bitches!” Chloe hears her say, earning an undisguised scoff from Victoria.

Chloe sinks back into the couch and lets her head tip back. She doesn’t know how she ended up here. She glances over at Rachel, who laughs and smiles like the sun.

Maybe she does know.

They stumble back to Rachel’s dorm around 3 in the morning, both too drunk to realize how loud they're being until someone smacks on the wall and shouts at them. While Chloe tugs on some of Rachel’s pj pants, Rachel sticks a towel under the door, pulls the window open, and sticks her box fan in front of it before she lights up a joint. She passes it to Chloe and lights a stick of incense, too, just in case.

Somehow, they end up sprawled out on the bed, feeling as warm and heavy as the hazy smoke-filled air. Rachel's head is on Chloe’s chest and she has one leg slung over Chloe’s. There's something about that casual intimacy that makes Chloe’s heart flutter. Even just lying here with Rachel makes her feel safe.

Rachel tips her head up to blow a smoke ‘o’ in Chloe’s face and giggle. “Have I told you how much I love the blue hair?” Rachel asks, a low hum to her voice.

Chloe’s stomach flips the way it does every time Rachel compliments her. “You were the one who talked me it into it, remember?”

Rachel reaches up to brush her fingers through Chloe’s chemical-soaked hair, fingertips skimming Chloe’s cheek on the way. It makes her shiver.

Rachel notices—she _must_. She shifts her weight off of Chloe and props herself up on one elbow, looking down at Chloe. Her hand is still in her hair.

It's Rachel who makes the first move—it's always Rachel. Chloe’s too much of a damn coward. Rachel’s hand slips down to the curve of her neck and then she leans down to kiss her. It's nothing but a feathery brush until she suddenly surges into it, her grip tightening and she pulls herself closer.

Chloe follows, like she always will when Rachel leads. She wraps her arms around Rachel and sucks on her bottom lip until she moans, low and hot.

Rachel throws her leg over Chloe’s waist and rolls on top of her. Her eyes are like liquid copper and Chloe feels like she could drown. Rachel’s never looked at her like this before—hungry and wanting and _lust_. Chloe could suffocate under the weight of it.

There’s nothing Rachel could ask of her in that moment that she wouldn’t do.

Then, Rachel leans back to pull off the tiny tank top she’s wearing. Now, she's straddling Chloe in nothing but her lacy bra and mini skirt. Chloe’s mind is blank–she can't focus on anything but Rachel. The taste of her mouth is as intoxicating as the liquor they were drinking earlier. Chloe’s hands slide up the curve of Rachel’s waist and her thumbs skim the underside of Rachel’s bra. Rachel leans into the touch, encouraging, and trails her lips down Chloe’s neck. Her teeth drag along Chloe’s skin before she sucks a deep red mark into the column of her throat.

Rachel leans back, but only to pull Chloe’s shirt off and chuck it into the corner. Her hands roam Chloe’s bare chest, brushing over the peaks of her breasts and making her sigh, high and needy.

Rachel is every bit as good as she brags that she is—because, God, _of course_ she is. Her fingers are as skilled as Chloe imagined, fucking her until she's a babbling mess, and her mouth on Chloe’s is insistent and burning. When Chloe comes back down, Rachel presses sweet kisses to her cheeks and nose and lips.

Chloe still feels her lips days later.

With far less finesse but more than enough enthusiasm to make up for it, Chloe returns the favor, exploring Rachel’s body like she did in dreams that always left her feeling guilty in the morning. This is better than any dream, though. She never could’ve dreamt the arch in Rachel’s back or the taste of her or her sleepy contented smile.

It’s better than a dream and, later, Chloe wonders if that was the first sign that it would end tragically.

 

Rachel goes to another Vortex party the next weekend and she doesn't even invite Chloe this time, which definitely stings a little bit. Not that she wanted to hang out with those assholes anyway, but an offer would've been nice.

Chloe texts her _hey u still up?_ at 3:46 am and waits twenty minutes for a reply that doesn't come before she rolls over and closes her eyes as tight as she can.

When she wakes up the next morning, there's still nothing from Rachel. Her stomach twists. Normally Rachel would've responded by now, probably with six texts all whining about her hangover. Is Rachel ignoring her?

Chloe thinks about last weekend in Rachel’s bedroom and it almost makes her sick. What if Rachel regretted it? What if she was so ashamed that she couldn't even bring herself to text Chloe back? She’d seemed fine all week, but she had been sort of distant and she never once brought it up.

 _God_. Chloe feels like the walls are closing in on her. She can barely fucking _breathe_.

“Fucking get it together,” she hisses to herself, nails biting into her palms. The pain grounds her, just enough, and her breathing starts to even out.

Everything is fine. She's just overreacting. Rachel’s probably just sleeping in because of her hangover. That makes sense.

The pit in Chloe’s stomach doesn't go away.

Rachel is declared missing two days later and Chloe is already plastering the city with her posters. It's funny—Rachel would love seeing Arcadia Bay covered in photographs of her. It reminds Chloe of how she was always handing out her headshots, except now they say MISSING at the top in large bold print. Rachel is declared missing two days later and it rains harder than it has in months.

**Author's Note:**

> anyway chloe and rachel's relationship was CRIMINALLY underdeveloped!!!! so this is me trying to fix that a little bit
> 
> also i love writing from chloe's pov she's so gay
> 
> (follow me on tumblr @lesbianclarissa)


End file.
